


The Comedy of Tragedy

by Darknecessary



Category: Katana ZERO (Video Game), Katana Zero
Genre: Drugs, Explicit Language, Sort Of, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-22
Updated: 2019-04-22
Packaged: 2020-01-23 23:47:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18559585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darknecessary/pseuds/Darknecessary
Summary: We know what these masked freaks told The Samurai, but what happened to DJ Electrohead, before The Samurai killed him in the the crystal dome?





	The Comedy of Tragedy

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Die Komödie der Tragödie](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19437097) by [Bedürfnis nach Dunkelheit (Darknecessary)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darknecessary/pseuds/Bed%C3%BCrfnis%20nach%20Dunkelheit). 



> Ok, the game is out for 4 days, this shot hung in my brain for like 2 days, now its finished.
> 
> It's the first Katana Zero fanfiction. Wohoo!
> 
> I fking adore DJ Electrohead and I LOVE Tragedy and Comedy.

It was the best trip he had ever had.  
  
Everything was blurry and distorted, somehow in slow motion.  
He felt as if he could rip out trees.  
As if he could walk across the sea.  
As if he could achieve EVERYTHING.  
  
DJ Electrohead took a deep breath. He blinked and time moved back to normal. Whatever that shit was he had found ... That was-  
  
The. Best. Fucking. Trip. Ever.  
  
\- - - - -  
  
"The tragedy of comedy."  
  
"The comedy of tragedy! Hi-hi-hiiiii. "  
  
"Poor misguided heart."  
  
"Isn’t that that cute?"  
  
"Neither silver nor gold is found in his possession."  
  
"I think he could try a little bit more effort."  
  
"It seems to me, my dear comedy, he will not be able to achieve either one or the other"  
  
"He seems pretty useless to me."  
  
"Gold of course may be for him, but without silver he will not be allowed to choose."  
  
"He found it."  
  
"And thereby severing his fate's thread itself?"  
  
"It was not meant for him."  
  
"He will probably die like that."  
  
"I'm for it we torture him."  
  
"Not really, dear friend."  
  
"Let's torture him! That will be funny! Hi-hi-hiiiii. "  
  
"Your humor surprises me every new morning."  
  
"Let's torture him!"  
\- - - - -  
  
DJ Electrohead sat up. He struggled for breath and looked around. The two strange scarecrows were gone.  
"What the hell? No pigs believe me ... " He got up and touched his head.  
Tired, he looked at the blond, tangled streaks in the mirror. Deep dark circles showed how badly he had slept.  
"And who were these freaks?" He grumbled softly to himself.  
He dragged himself to the fridge, took the open can of energy drink from the night before. Or two nights? He finished the rest. Disgusting. Carelessly he threw the bottle into the basket, which already contained several cans. The sound of the striking metal caused a headache.  
DJ Electrohead groaned and took a shower.  
  
Unlike the rest of the 3rd district, the hotels were clean and classy. No mold in the shower, no water stains on the ceiling and you did not hear what the neighbors were doing at night.  
When DJ Elekcrohead thought of what he had seen here ... He was almost glad that his security was trying to lock him in. Protected from bums, rats and piss.  
  
Nevertheless, he did not let go of the memory of last night.  
  
"I'm just going to smoke, man.", He had said to his bodyguard in front of the door and had leaped over the balcony then. He had just wanted to look around.  
  
As glorious as the hotel was inside, from the outside it was just a gray block, beside all the other gray blocks here. Someone had sprayed "Fuck the Poli-" on the wall and had probably been interrupted. DJ Electrohead slipped down a narrow lane and reached a backyard that connected several lanes. He looked at the sky. Clouds obscured the stars. Cold drizzle hit his pale face.

"Ehy. Doye have... n bit medicine? I'm -hiccup- goddamn veteran! "

DJ Electrohead had not noticed the homeless person in his shabby coat. "Medicine?" He asked.  
"Yes you. Chronos. Really good shit. - hiccup - You look ... as .. would be one of the highs. "

DJ Electrohead frowned. "2. District. But I do not know Chronos." He squatted down. "I can offer you this, old man." From his pocket he conjured a small bag of pills. Nothing special, was given away in clubs nearly for free, but for 3 hours soaring it was quite nice.

"Nah man! I do not want that shit! Only the good shit! Fuck off!"

Confused, DJ Electrohead looked at the veteran, who now viciously cursed him. He got up and hurried to get away.

"Who does not want already has." He mumbled and put one of the pills on the tongue.  
  
\- - - - -  
  
DJ Electrohead had had better ideas than taking mind-expanding remedies in a foreign environment.  
But now he had got himself into it and had to pay for it.  
"Wait a minute ... I've been here before." Mumbled the blonde tired.

"This is where I went left earlier ...", so DJ Electrohead turned right and shuffled further down the lane, away from the hotel that was waiting behind the next turn.

 

The rain pattered meanwhile hard and incessantly on the slim body. DJ Electrohead was not completely sure if his cheeks were wet only from the rain, but his eyes were burning.

Nearby, he spotted an open door and slipped inside. He was shaking.  
Shadowy he could make out stacked boxes. He wiped his blond hair with one hand.  
"Hello?" No answer. Nobody here. But who left the door open? Maybe this was a warehouse for cheap shit.  
DJ Electrohead went to one of the boxes and tried to open it. No chance. The lid was nailed up. He searched around. He frowned. There had to be something here!  
He roamed deeper into the hall as he stumbled across a metal box. It was only about 7,8 to 11,8 inches tall. There was something written on the lid.

"Tragedy?" A voice whispered.

"Comedy?" Another asked.

Confused, DJ Electrohead looked around.  
"Hello?" He shouted again. No Answer.  
"The drugs are killing me," the blond mumbled.

Shrugging his shoulders, he picked up the box and turned it slightly as he shuffled back toward the entrance. In the pale light he recognized the lettering.  
  
Chronos.  
  
This was not a cheap clothes store. And suddenly he had an urgent need not to get caught here. He shoved the box under his jacket into his waistband and pushed himself out again.  
  
\- - - - -  
  
Another hour had passed as he stumbled against someone, turning around in confusion. "Watch out, assho-BOSS!" The Ricky grabbed him by the shoulders and looked into his blue eyes.  
"Boss! Are you alright? "He asked clearly worried. "you are cold as ice, Boss, man, you can not scare us like that!" The man scolded leading DJ Electrohead back to the hotel.  
  
That was probably the end for nocturnal excursions. But he was not interested in sneaking out anymore. That was definitely enough for him.  
  
After another hot shower, DJ Electrohead tottered to bed. He tripped over his clothes, which he had dropped carelessly and cursed when he hit a hard edge. Furious, he kicked against it and the metal box slid a bit over the floor.

"Oh yes. Right, "murmured DJ Electrohead. He squatted and opened the lid. The box contained three syringes.  
  
"Should you just put a foreign substance into your body just because an old veteran said it was the best drug in the world?" DJ Electrohead asked in the room.  
  
Then he remembered his motto.  
  
"I stay high! I'm never coming down!"  
  
DJ Electrohead shrugged and thrust the syringe into his arm.  
  
  
It was the best trip he had ever had.  
  
Everything was blurry and distorted, somehow in slow motion.  
He felt as if he could rip out trees.  
As if he could walk across the sea.  
As if he could achieve EVERYTHING.  
  
DJ Electrohead took a deep breath. He blinked and time moved back to normal. Whatever that shit he had found was ... That was-  
  
The. Best. Fucking. Trip. Ever.  
  
\- - - - -  
  
"I'm here to kill you," the samurai said.  
"Oh damn! Oh damn! You're real! ", This guy was not a drug fantasy. "Stay cool. OK. I’ll give everything back!" DJ Electrohead took two steps back.  
"What are you talking about?" The samurai asked.  
"If the stuff I found was yours ... Oh God, I'll give it back to you after the show! Please do not hurt me!" Exclaimed DJ Electrohead.  
"Tell me where that stuff is," said the samurai.  
"Are you sure you are real? I mean ... It's still in your storage unit." DJ Electrohead babbled. "I did not steal anything! I bought the whole thing at an auction! It was said the owner was dead!", he lied desperately.  
"I only tried it once. It was blatant. Since then, I see shit! I’ll give- give- e-everything back!"  
"Tell me the name of the drug," the Samurai demanded.  
"Wait a tick?! You do not know how that shit is called? Who are you man?! Bro. My boys are going to kill you!" DJ Electrohead shouted angrily.  
"Your boys are dead." The samurai raised the sword.  
  
  
"It looks like that was the end. Hi-hi-hiiiii."  
The guy with the golden mask was back. The mask's face was a twisted into a broad grin.  
"What happened?" Murmured DJ Electrohead, confused.  
"He slaughtered you!" Comedy shouted.  
  
"Unfortunately, it is a fact that you have poisoned your human life-sap. And as long as that is the case, you will live and relive that moment," said the figure with the silver mask, which adorned a strangely sad face.  
"What does that mean? I do not understand?" DJ Electrohead called in panic.  
  
"Idiot!", Comedy cocked his head. "You took Chronos. And with that you have surrendered to us! "He chuckled viciously.  
"What do you want from me ?!" DJ Electrohead asked. He did not understand anything of what happened here.  
  
"Everyone has the choice. Either he chooses the golden life and decides to save himself - which however means death of the one's beloved by one. Or he gives himself up to the silver death and saves who ever is around him. Normally, we also leave that choice to this individual himself, "said Tragedy.  
  
"But you're useless!" Comedy shouted. "You can not kill, so why should you live?! Hi-hi-hiiiii. "  
DJ Electrohead shook his head. He stared at the katana just millimeters from his body. It would cut and bleed him like a pig.  
"Why are only murderers allowed to live? Why do I have to die ?! "he asked desperately.  
  
"Because.", Comedy laughed. "He lives."  
  
"Do not try to understand, confused heart." Tragedy said. "These are the rules. You chose the tragedy when you picked up this box. "  
  
"Tragedy?" Comedy said.

"Comedy?", whispered Tragedy.  
  
DJ Electrohead trembled. He touched his head and sobbed.  
The guy was real. No imagination. And he would kill him.  
"No! Just list-!"  
The katana effortlessly cut his helmet and face. He died immediately.  
  
"Wait! Hey if ... if those were your drugs- "  
The samurai did not hear. He did not say a word.  
The katana effortlessly cut his helmet and face. He died immediately.  
  
"I did not want to-"  
The samurai did not hear. He did not say a word.  
The katana effortlessly cut his helmet and face. He died immediately.  
  
"I'll pay you-"  
The samurai did not hear. He did not say a word.  
The katana effortlessly cut his helmet and face. He died immediately.  
  
"CHRONOS!"  
The samurai paused. DJ Electrohead trembled.  
"That's why you're here? Because of Chronos?"  
The samurai looked at him.  
"The drug. The name is Chronos. Syringes. I found it in a warehouse. "  
The samurai was silent.  
"I'll give you everything I have left and show you where the stuff was hidden, but please ... Do not hurt me, Bro!"  
The samurai released the handle of his katana.  
"Give me everything and you can go," he said.  
  
DJ. Electrohead took a deep breath.  
"Thanks man! Thank you! I'll show it to you immediately and- "  
Behind the samurai a figure had appeared. He wore a silver mask.  
"So. Easy. That's not possible. ", DJ Electrohead heard behind him. Comedy giggled.  
  
The bullet penetrated the helmet and hit his head before DJ Electrohead could blink.  
  
No matter how many times he tried. What he tried. What he said.  
  
He died every time. Without exception.  
  
He had to see.  
  
His was the tragedy.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading up to this point! 
> 
> Please tell what you liked or did not like! I try to become a better writer and your critiques are important for me!


End file.
